Other Towns and Cities
by Letter to Miss
Summary: The sirens have started and the city is crumbling from the inside out, leaving the teenage shinobi stuck in a nightmare-like world where staying sane just might be more important than staying alive.  M for general zombie goodness. On hiatus.
1. Prelude

It could have been anything.

The sirens, maybe, or the sheer amount of people flooding the streets, or perhaps even it was just because someone was having a really fucking _awful_ day. Who died first? It wasn't Sasuke, and it wasn't Shikamaru. It wasn't Ino, either, or even Sakura, as he'd expected. Survival wasn't always the highest priority, but it was for some.

Sometimes, he had even laughed. Never had he cried in those days, however. Not even in these new days did he break down and wail. The trees had burned and he had sung to the ash filled skies and the smoke had flooded into his lungs like the hordes through an unlocked door.

Neurotics and narcotics went hand in hand. The radio is never just static. Seceding is involuntary. The only friends are the ones who are sane.

Catch me while you can.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **This is just a prelude to what's to come. This is the fanfiction that has put Anthems on hold and so far I have rewritten the plot and characters and beginnings multiple times to finally come up with something satisfactory. The fic is still very much in the makes, so I wouldn't expect another chapter for a while, at least a few weeks, but I will try to perhaps update Anthems in that time period. I really do enjoy both stories, though, and I hope that you do too. Thank you for reading! (:


	2. Act One: Sirens

**Act One**

**Sirens **

_Abnormal Thoughts_

Cherry blossoms live

Not in my name but in my

Words spoken, unspoken

_Addition and Subtraction_

I dropped the plate

Because the sirens came on

Ino dropped in

_A Briefing_

"The sirens haven't come on for years!" Tenten whispers, in a mild panic, as she snatches up a pack of kunai.

"Maybe Hinata grew up," Neji smirks and takes a plastic baggie from his pocket. "Let's just take some of these-they're good ones. There's nothing to worry about."

_Another One Goes Up In Smoke For Shikamaru_

Clouds are interrupted as a wailing, _inhumane_ siren cracks through the air. Shikamaru squeezes his eyes shut. Not today. The stress of being a jonin and sixteen has been steadily cracking down on him. The secrets he knows, though few are no blessing. They are kept in the outer reaches of his mind, so he can only grab onto them when he needs them, which is thankfully rarely. He has learned a few things that haven't disturbed him, however. Not very useful things, as he is always ready to admit. Things such as learning nearly all of the card games in the book and how to sneak a smoke in between meetings are the epitome of his knowledge gained.

Today was not supposed to be an emergency. He knows that he should get up, flock to the city hall, mingle briefly with his fellow ninja, and then commence onto the inevitable mission…but today is his day off. _People_ _could die, Shikamaru_, says the left side of his brain. _The clouds are moving again_, the right side intervenes. A balance between the two, he watches a murder play out in the sky. A shingle clatters to the ground, and Shikamaru simultaneously is sitting up, smiling crookedly as Choji drags himself onto the rooftop. "This shit is really loud," Choji grunts as he munches on a bag of pretzels.

Shikamaru nods and rubbing his temples, asks, "Do you know what's going on?"

"I talked to Asuma," a burp briefly interrupts the rather large boy, "and he said something about the Hokage being missing and something going down on the east side or something. The sirens are just supposed to tell everyone to stay inside until they've sorted it out. But you know Konoha. Everyone's outside anyway."

Shikamaru snorts. "Not even Shizune has a clue?"

"Not even Shizune." Choji tossed the empty bag off the rooftop and chuckled as it drifted to the ground. "I don't get what the big deal is about the east side. Nothing ever happens over there, anyway."

"Funerals happen," Shikamaru laughs and Choji joins him. "I bet it'll be on the radio tonight."

"It's news, isn't it?"

_Aliens _

She is not scared. In fact, Ino is feeling perfectly comfortable with this situation. There is absolutely and completely _no way _that these remarkably loud and remarkably alarming sirens could just be barely setting her on edge or frightening her in the least bit. She did not fly down to Sakura's apartment for a shoulder to worry on. Ino is simply a girl in need of a little company, and especially in need of company while having to endure such a shrieking, tyrannical, and deafening test run of the sirens.

A brief hug marks her entrance into Sakura's apartment. Ino lets go first, naturally, and curls up on the couch. "Do you want anything to eat?" Sakura offers.

"No," Ino replies. Never.

The pink haired girl, forever porcelain, gingerly sits on the indigo cushion's edge. Sakura's apartment is nearly the same as Ino's, only a floor below. The bathroom is down a hallway to the left, the two bedrooms to the right. A small kitchen and a slightly larger living room are the opening sight for one standing in the doorway. Perhaps they are for family time, if it is ever more than a dream. "There's so many people out there," Sakura remarks lightly.

"Maybe aliens landed," Ino answers. "Turn on the radio."

"Why?"

"People on the radio talk about the people that aren't on the radio. Simple as that."

Sakura shrugs and presses the on button. The buzzing of the static under the sirens is maddeningly, though only slightly so. Are those voices she hears? Ino strains her ears, but she comes up with nothing. Mind numbing. Disappointing. Static.

_Apple Pie _

Pie is the savior. Shikamaru comes close after. Choji and he are on the floor of Shikamaru's bedroom, sitting on piles of books, on CDs, tuning into the static. "Why doesn't anyone else know what's going on?" Choji grumbles.

Shikamaru doesn't answer. Choji takes another bite. Maybe pie is better.

_Assholes On Street Corners_

The streets are too fucking full! Sasuke turns on his heel and heads back the way he came: the west side. He never ventures even a step into the east side. Sasuke is like a mosquito, and the neighborhood graveyard-home to his late parents-is his own personal bug spray.

He settles onto a bench. A jogger sprints by, glaring at Sasuke as he passes. A finger is sufficient to return the favor. Another jogger, moving somewhat slower, flails his arms at Sasuke while he runs. There rarely are this many joggers at six at night, but Sasuke thinks nothing of it. He is in love with the night, this concealing darkness. The feeling that whatever he does cannot be seen, and that in the night, he is whatever he wants to be, whether it is the benevolent do-gooder or the despised vandal. Murder is beyond him, and not without good reason. A living human being is too good to kill, except for one man. And with a single mention, the name has become Sasuke's mind, and the pit has returned.

_Antsy Preparation_

In the other room

They zip, they play, and they zoom.

Lee doesn't play with shrooms.

**Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.**

Outside the window is a groan.

Next door there is a moan.

All Lee's hard work might be shown!

**Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.**

He gathers up the knives

Little comfort he derives

Shining steel lies.

**Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.**

Lee saw it outdoors

Felt its footsteps through the floors

It shook him to his core.

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

Ready, though, is he!

He will fly like a butterfly and sting like a bee!

For he is, of course, Rock Lee.

_As If She Fled_

Pull her together or rip her apart, she still exists. She is not weak today. She may be tomorrow, no, she knows she will be tomorrow, but tonight she is freee! Escaping into the shadows, Hinata is floating in her elation.

Home is unnecessary! She can stay with Kiba, whatever he is. He'd make a better dad than her father is to her, anyway. These thrills are unsafe for her sporadic, brooding mind. These newfound liberties and the ability to do whatever she please and not have an authority to tell her off are mind-boggling. She is walking down the empty street in the west side carrying her cello case, now passing the radio station. The sirens are alarming, yes, but that's what they're supposed to be! She would be lying if she told anyone she wasn't afraid. She is more afraid of returning home, however. The anger could seep back in, and who would want that?

There is a moaning in a nearby building. It's only sex, Hinata is sure, though she's never "done it" before. Only to herself will she admit that she hasn't even kissed anyone yet, despite being the ripe old age of fifteen. She can play the cello and she has killed a man, though only _a_ man. She knows that not many fifteen year olds can say that, which gives her a brief twinge of sweet satisfaction.

The sun is falling through the sky, bleeding into the clouds as it makes its descent into the horizon.

She shivers. Hinata doesn't like the dark.

_Abstract Imagery_

She leaves a trail as she goes down, her form lingering for a moment after each reckless movement. He has melted into the bed sheets and his fingers are twisted the wrong direction, but he doesn't quite care today. Any other day. The light bulb is an angel with a faint gleaming halo, but Tenten's body is beautiful, her breasts large, and he cannot say anything other than that he is turned on, oh but look! The curtains have turned purple!

The radio is playing soft static, but Neji can faintly pick out the words of a familiar song when he tries hard enough. He hums it to himself as the tune burrows into his throat. The blue on the floor is striking and out of place, but the yellow on the walls, also unseen before, is its direct opposite, and somewhat frightening. Yellow has never been Neji's favorite color. The walls are frowning down on him, and he feels himself shrinking rather than melting into his bed, but Tenten is so good at this that he while he generally doesn't love much of anything, he rather does love sex today, of all days…

He tastes the white of his pillow. It is fluffy and light, like the first marshmallow from an unopened bag. Her eyes have ripples in them, and Neji feels like he has tossed a skipped a stone into her pond, and this is his reward for doing so. Lights are flashing in the window, and Buddha is sitting on his floor, arms crossed, legs folded under him. He smiles softly, and raises _something_ gray and silver with a lens.

Oh! Neji has never felt this sort of connection before, in his endless thoughts of run on sentences and atrocious grammar. They are one and they are in harmony and the whole entire world is harmony in this endless, brief moment. He is everything. The curtains wave hello and the colors are changing and the ceiling is pulsing and is this love, or is this just another good trip?

_Akamaru_

He smells like dog, Akamaru, to be specific. Kiba inhales the scent, its warmth and comfort, the knowledge that his dog will always stay by his side. The woods are home to him with their scents and their magic. He brought in another crop of shrooms today, sold them, and made a good profit, and now he's out again, though now he's simply enjoying the outdoors. Kiba, contrary to popular belief, has never actually taken mushrooms before. The sun is setting, though, Hinata is going to sleep right now-he is sure. Always to bed early, always awake at the crack of dawn. That's his, well, almost his girl.

The shadows are shrinking into the falling night and the trees are fading fast. Shrubbery, grasses, flowers, all merging into one shroud of impenetrable blackness. Akamaru's white fur is the only thing even vaguely visible to Kiba's eye. His night vision leaves much to be desired. Stepping behind Akamaru, perfectly synchronized, he is led out of the forest by scent and sound. His trust has not been misplaced as the dim streetlights come into view. A repressed sigh of relief. Doubt is vanquished until the sirens invade his mind.

_Awoken Abomination_

I am fumbling for the light switch

Seven in the evening and I'm finally awake

Eloquence is flowing

For me, my pen

Outside, the streets are packed

Men, women, and children shoved into narrow streets

Pushing, screaming, protesting

When did these damn sirens go on?

Someone in the crowd lets out a scream.

I should help.

I want to.

I stay inside.

Wondering

(Where is) Sasuke?

Not in the throngs

People are his poison.

Most, that is.

I need ear muffs.

This shit is too

**NOISY** **FOR NOW**

**I JUST WANT TO SLEEP AN HOUR LONGER**

Epiphany dawns.

Danger in the city?

I roll over and shut my eyes.

Deal with it in the midnight.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: If there is any confusion with the layout, please, and I truly do mean this, send me a PM and I will explain. Thank you for reading this update!


	3. Act One: Airwaves

**Act 1-2**

**Airwaves**

_Rip Him To Shreds_

"I got the food," Lee says, throwing open the door. "Tenten! Neji! Are the drugs over with?

"Good morning to you, too," Neji sneers. "Has your never-ending affair with being socially awkward finally over with, or have you decided to give it another five years?"

"I'll get the knives," Tenten says quickly as she grabs Neji's white…shirt? Or is it a dress? Pushing aside her confusions, she slips it on under the bed sheets, and an exit is hastily made.

_Rambling – The Rotting Rolling Risky_

Discursive, my thoughts, each individual piece seamlessly streaming into the next without any brief delay no need for grammar no desire for punctuation now because something is stirring outside and I am on the inside ripe for taking my vision is stellar on the outside but tonight I wish it wasn't this isn't real this isn't right he was rotting last week eye sockets still have something in them but his innards are slipping from a hole in his rib cage as he rapidly limps past this too thin window that man my old man the pervert silver hair slipping from his skull he is lunging into the crowd not too grope women like he used to now he's eating them instead I am throwing up into the toilet-thankfully missing the floor.

Vomiting can clear the mind, though not always enough time is allotted

For me to completely return to my senses

Heightened, fortunately, unfortunately

I do not want to see this.

This is not the man I used to know.

Kurenai, outdoors

Hand patterns forming rapidly

Jutsu! Salvation!

A mind trick is in dire need!

I am peering over my windowsill.

Ducking down

Not fear, doubt!

I inch my head up and sneak a glance into the world

Not a glimpse

Of Kurenai

No red eyes or salt and pepper hair

Her absence

Is acute, for the first time.

Always the last.

I am washed away

Swept beyond the seas

Sasuke! Sakura! Shikamaru!

Ino! Choji! Rock Lee!

Tenten! Hinata! Kiba!

Neji! (There are more screams outside, I know, I fear but wish deeply)

I dare to think their names (Please not these names.)

And in doing so I am abolished

Sasuke.

Dead? My friend, my close friend

Not dead enough to be sought

Yank open the drawers

My pockets will be an armory

Made up completely of knives, throwing stars

(Jiraiya, my old master, I do mourn you, but not your corpse)

My foot is halfway out the door, and within moments of fleeting hesitation

I am out the door, me, myself, alive, for now.

Searching and yet not lost.

_Raspberry Ice Cream_

Choji shoves the ice cream back into the fridge as he hears the toilet flush down the hall. The sirens halted an hour ago, but the screaming from the east side is worse, much worse. Choji can pick out the men, the women, the wailing children. Mentors and acquaintances. Anbu and widows. There is a dissonance, Choji's guilt over not being there and his hidden relief at being away from the scene of the crime, or maybe it is just the fear bleeding through their sobs and staining the air.

Shikamaru enters the room; he is stepping lightly because he is light, not because he is trying. Choji wishes desperately for a bag of chips. They will not let their differences come between them, will they? For Shikamaru is all that Choji has, and their friendship means more than the village. Choji is sweating. An eyebrow is raised, and Shikamaru opens his mouth. "We're going to the station," he says firmly, jaw set.

"Why?"

"To find Ino," Shikamaru answers while tossing knives, kitchen and weaponry alike, in a backpack.

Choji blinks. "How's she going to find us if we're hiding in the station?"

"We'll broadcast. You know her. She has the radio on all of the time."

"Fair enough." Choji is quick to agree. He opens the cupboards and empties their contents into a separate bag. "What do you think is out there?"

"I don't want to know," Shikamaru sighs and lights a cigarette. "I don't want to know."

_Rational_

The bathroom smells _rational_ to Kiba. A perfect hiding place in the midst of a crisis. The howling outside has been numbing all of his senses but his smell, and even Akamaru is shuddering. They keep the door locked as the shrieking makes its way into the grocery store, and persistent fists hammer at the door. "All we wanted was some broccoli, right Akamaru?" Kiba whispers, voice quavering. "Right boy?"

The dog, small and white and shaking against the green tile of the bathroom floor, nods in agreement. The door is being pounded like a young boy in a street fight, and Kiba can smell the blood seeping under the crack. This door is solid, yes, but how long can it hold? There is static playing over the radio. As long as the static is on the airwaves, Kiba decides, he will stay inside. He shuts his eyes and plugs his nose. The groans and shrieks, animal and malicious, still pummel his ears, but he has made his choice.

Let the waiting begin.

_Rustling To You, My Dear_

Hinata's knees are pulled up to her chest as she trembles incessantly. The tremors convulse through her body no matter how hard she tries to lay still. They'll be coming soon, she is sure, the screams. The night on the bench had started pleasantly uncomfortable enough, but it had deteriorated quickly into wailing and sobbing, and already Hinata has joined the crowd in their grieving, though over what she is not sure. The causes don't matter to her-she simply believes in practicing sorrow for all slight grievances more quietly, that was all.

Something lays a tentative finger on the back of her head, and she flies up, years of training finally being put into use for this brief rebuttal. The fingers are like sausages, large and meaty but wholly unappetizing. Another blink composes her mind, and she says plainly, "Hello."

No shaking. No stammer. She is proud of herself, for once. How many other teenagers can manage to speak clearly with obvious danger lurking so close? Choji and Shikamaru peer down at her, concern etched across their faces. "Come with us," Shikamaru says, reaching out a hand.

Hinata stands up on her own. A boy's hand? That is almost more frightening than the sirens and the screaming combined, and certainly ten-fold more intimidating. He has no feelings for her but pity, she tells herself, confident for once in what she is saying.

They set off the way from whence she came, and Hinata follows in a dazed, dreamy state. She is in a nightmare, she is sure of it. The circumstances can't allow such a combination as this. Why is she moving? Why is she following? Questions follow actions such as these, but she can never find the answers.

_Rework The Basics_

Punch the brick wall!

Slam the hard ball!

Take the long fall!

Lee is not that small!

He will hurt

He _does _hurt.

But abandonment will never be in the works.

Lee will never give into that jerk.

So prepare he will!

Gather the food-it won't spill!

Gather the knives so the others can kill!

In this, Lee can show his skill.

**_Really_**_ Fucking Ugly_

This woman is so goddamn _ugly_! Sasuke wrinkles his nose in disgust. She hasn't showered in a week, owns one shirt, no washing machine, and lives she in a dump, too, and since Sasuke is on a storytelling roll today, she is a widow who abandoned her three children to lick the walls of the most spacious sewers in Konoha. She is sprinting down the street as he lounges on his front step, ignoring the shrieking, focusing on sharpening his kunai. Why do people have to be so fucking _gross_ and so goddamn _crazy_?

She is approaching rapidly; Sasuke snags this from the corner of his eye. Veering off the road. Stepping onto his sidewalk. Feet heavily but quickly pounding the ground. Her breaths are ragged and long, labored but lasting. They drag out like the screams, and are just as intrusive. The smell is overwhelming. Fresh blood and pus are leaking onto the pavement. Sasuke gags and tightens his grip on his kunai. Whether this is subconscious or not, he doesn't quite know.

A screech, fierce and raw and animal, echoing through the otherwise empty street tears its way through the woman's throat. She is lunging forward, the knife is ready, and her claws-fingers-are outstretched and she is moving so fucking _fast_, but Sasuke is faster, thank god, and the knife breaks the skin, plunging into her stomach. He looks up, finally and fearfully, though this is never to be admitted. Her eyes are a cold, milky blue as if they belonged to a blind person, though there is a constricted pupil in the dead center. Her clothes are torn, and how in the _fuck _had _Sasuke_, a ninja of considerable prowess, missed the blood smeared all over her dress?

The woman squirms and thrusts her arms forward, clawing at Sasuke's face, slashing at his skin with her nails. "What the fuck is your problem?" he snarls, twisting the knife in her gut.

Only a twitch. He nearly drops the kunai as he sucks in a sharp breath. A drip of blood slides down his forehead. She is standing over him, he remembers as he tries to deny the emotion that is taking hold over his mind and his body. It is dawning.

He is going to die here. This woman is not alive. She is not alive but yet she is directly over him, shrieking at him, bleeding on his white forehead. He is going to join her, he knows. She can never die-because how can you die after you've lost yourself?-but he will. He is bracing himself. He cannot draw the kunai out, only twist more and more, wincing as she cries like a dying animal with each inch the blade swivels. For once in his life, Sasuke is sorry for being rude to somebody. The dead deserve their respect. They don't deserve to be slaughtered again. A nail tears open his cheek. He will not react. He refuses to. He will die with dignity. The last of his clan will not die without pride.

His hands are soaked with blood. Thankfully not his yet, but this will change soon, he knows.

He has resigned to his fate but not the fight. Footsteps approaching, flying closer. It is sealed. This dead thing looming over him has won. Her allies have arrived. He is lost. The bite marks on her shoulder are his future, a thing to cry over, but not to be avoided.

She pitches towards him without warning, letting out a shrill cry. Sasuke rolls out of the way, cursing ashe whacks his head on a stair. He is dizzy and disoriented and the forms are folding into twos and into fours and shaking side to side. A foot smashes down and a knife is plunged and the woman's head is a pulp and flowing lazily down the stairway like a river through a grassland. Puking. Someone is puking. "Radio..along…us…" Sasuke hates concussions, and he hates being the one helped, but sometimes they both happen, so he allows them, currently unknown, to drape his arms over their shoulders and carry him helplessly away.

_Radical Ideas_

Neji is writing on the walls. The ink is flowing from his pen like a waterfall, and his penmanship is suffering for it. The desperation, though, is his motive, driving him to record even though his teammates are packing and gathering for the perilous trip ahead of them. Supplies and weapons will be necessary for them to survive, yes, but this is more important to him right now. His story will not go untold.

_Radio Station _

"It's locked," Choji grunts as he rattles the front door of the radio station.

"Great," Shikamaru mutters. "Let's try the back. Everyone, stay quiet."

Shikamaru takes the lead, tiptoeing along the edge of the building, ignoring his pounding heart, and attempting to pretend that the blood on his cheek is his own. The bushes are more of a nuisance than a cover. The rustling, especially Hinata's, is loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear. "This is bullshit," Sasuke groans.

"Don't complain right now," Choji says through gritted teeth, and Shikamaru smiles to himself. Choji is an asset, always, a morale booster and a confidence check. _Thanks_, Shikamaru wants to say out loud, but the downfalls of being the unofficially elected leader have stopped him from contradicting himself.

The back door has come into sight, and Shikamaru raises his hand to signal a stop. The group halts behind him, and he can swear that he hears all of their breaths, their heartbeats synchronized with his own. It's a comforting thought, to say the least. He steps forward cautiously, and each time he puts his foot down, he takes the next movement even slower. The fear is ever increasing. _Crunch_. _Crunch_. He really wished someone had raked the damn side of the building. When had people gotten so lazy? He slaps himself, mentally, of course.

Reaching his hand out cautiously, he turns the handle. "Fuck!" he swears to himself. Their eyes are all on him. Watching, waiting. All just as frightened as their leader. He is shivering, though it isn't a particularly cold day. _Man up_, he tells himself. _Get over it_. He grabs a kunai from his pocket and toys with the lock for a few minutes, a cold sweat drenching him.

Another minute passes.

And another.

And another.

"You can't pick locks for shit," Sasuke says drowsily, leaning on Choji and Hinata, who looks more than a tad uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Sasuke," Shikamaru replies through closed teeth. "You're really helping here."

Another minute and then _snap_! Shikamaru grins to himself and slides the kunai back into his pocket. Taking a quick survey to catch any of _them _in flight, he quickly opens the door and holds it for the others as they rush inside, shutting it softly behind them.

It is pitch black inside, and the only noise is a gentle, humming static. Hinata lets out a whimper. "Let's find the lights," Choji's voice comes from the other side of the room.

"Yeah," Shikamaru nods despite the darkness.

There is a crash. Hinata gasps. Sasuke groans. "Sorry!" Choji apologizes profusely. "I'm really sorry! I just tripped! No zombies here!"

"Did you just say zombie?" The trembling in Sasuke's voice is barely audible, but his words are only a transparent mask for the horror lurking behind them.

Harsh, fluorescent light floods the room. "Yes," Choji says. "Now let's make that broadcast while we still have time."

_Real Life Scared_

I am so scared

Nobody but Ino and

Nothing but static

_Run On Lies_

Dark outside silent

Me, her, them. She is crying.

Won't admit it.

_Riddles On The Radio_

The static broken!

She jumps I laugh we hug

Closely. This is joy.

_Raised Hopes_

Ears pressed to the radio, Ino and Sakura are tuned in to his voice. The revolting sights outdoors are ignored for this brief moment that will be over all too soon. It is too sweet to miss while it lasts.

Ino refuses to speak right now. If she talks she will spoil the fragility of this happiness amidst the three in the morning horrors, and besides, if the world is shutting down, isn't she allowed to hear Shikamaru speak just one more time? She can feel Sakura's emerald eyes trained on her, but this is unimportant right now. What matters is the voice on the radio, and the hope it brings.

"I know that it's three in the morning," Shikamaru is saying and Ino is smiling, "but please don't be asleep right now. Or if you do, take it in shifts. It's not safe out there, and I'm saying this for everyone's benefit, but especially my friends, and especially my friend Ino, because I know that sometimes she does really dumb shit when she gets in a tight spot. That's my teammate, Ino, and the rest of the team is holed up here in the radio station with some other friends and we fought…"

Come back!

"…a zombie and you have to kill it in the head, Ino, only the head! Nothing else works, and you can ask Sasuke when you see him if you really don't believe me. Just get here, okay? And alive. I don't want to get any of that zombie bullshit from you or any of our friends, okay? Just please. This is Shikamaru Nara, and goodnight."

There is a pause. Ino stares at Sakura. Sakura stares at Ino. It is mutual. "We're leaving in the morning," Ino says, just to taste the words.

"He just said zombie."

"Yeah," Ino replies, smiling softly in her island of sleepy, temporarily indestructible bliss, falling onto the couch. "Goodnight, Sakura. We're going to be safe tomorrow."

Sakura murmurs something to herself as she drags herself off of the floor, looking back once before closing her bedroom door behind her. "Goodnight, Ino."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: And the story truly begins with this chapter! Hopefully, I'm going to get a beta soon, and there will be a big improvement within Other Towns And Cities. I'm going to be on a trip to New York for the 9-14, so this will most likely be the last update for a week and a half. Thank you for reading! (:


	4. Act One: Revolt!

**Act 1-3**

**Revolt! **

_Death_

He is going to die here.

Well, not here, specifically, but somewhere close to this. Maybe down the street, or a few streets over, or maybe even on the other side of town. If he's lucky, he might make it out of the city alive.

But fuck the location. All that matters is that he is going to die soon. His time has come. That woman, that…that…that _zombie_ had been dead. There was no spark in her eye as she lunged at Sasuke, and his greatest fear and greatest wish had been fulfilled spontaneously.

To join them again, he is going to have to say his goodbyes. He whispers them into the darkness, at least, to the ones that can hear him. Hinata, Shikamaru, Choji. Sorrow, for not having known them better, and relief, for the same reason. They will not grieve for him, and he will not cry over them when the inevitable arrives.

Easing himself off of the rough carpet, Sasuke arises in the darkness. His mother would have been proud.

_Double Dog Dares_

Ino squeezes Sakura's hand as she slowly descends the stairway. Step by step, breath by breath. Her free hand's knuckles are white as she holds the kitchen knife out in front of her at arm's length. Zombies? She has a vague recollection of the term. Something to do with cannibalism? That can't be it. Fangs. Sucking fangs. Yes! Totally right. Sakura had refused to explain the meaning of the word before they left the apartment, but Ino is confident she has come up with her own definition, and a perfectly liable one, at that.

"Don't use your jutsu," Sakura whispers.

A crashing downstairs. Ino draws in a sharp gasp, freezing momentarily. Another step. She must not back down. "Why not?" she asks, her voice of the usual volume.

Her only reply is a harsh _shuuuuush_. Sakura's green eyes are wide and alarmed. Her fear is escaping, an infectious disease, poisoning Ino's thoughts like a sip of arsenic. Ino's legs are itching; all that she wants to do is sprint back upstairs and lock the apartment door behind her. Her eyes dart back and forth in the dim early morning light. A shudder passes through her like a tidal wave. Sakura's grip on Ino's hand tightens. "We should've stayed in the apartment!" Ino blubbers as her whole form quivers. "We should've stayed in the apartment! I mean, really, Shikamaru's fine-HE'S JUST FINE-Sakura! He's just fine so let's just go back, please? Why, why, why, why can't we just _fucking_ go back?"

_Slap_. It stings, yes, but not as much as the crippling embarrassment. An unwilling hot tear slips down her cheek. "Let's keep going," Sakura says softly, gently, a world away from her violent anger only moments past.

"Okay," Ino sighs shakily. Glass is breaking a floor below them. Another shudder passes through her. She is not afraid. She does not know what the fuck a zombie is, but the warmth surrounding her cold hands is slightly comforting and-

A wail. Feral. Shrill. Prowling. The hunter's shriek. Ino is on the edge, back pressed to the wall. She holds the trembling knife out in front of her. Clumsy actions are in the making, avoidably so. Funny. If she were to stab anything right now, she would probably fuck up and stab herself. Accidentally, yes, completely accidental. She does not hate herself. She does not, truly, and that's why she doesn't eat, because she must be _thin _to be able to love herself, and-

Stop thinking, Ino! She wants to strangle herself. Footsteps are ascending the stairs and nearly to the bend. Pounding, yes, ominous, yes, but are they dangerous? Maybe a zombie is another word for peeping tom. Resist the urge to laugh, Ino, and-

_Slam_! Charging around the corner and careening into the wall, it picks itself off of the floor. Sakura's gasp is choked off. Blood splatters on the wallpaper and a splinter of bone protrudes from the elbow of the man. His skin is graying, and his eyes are a milky light in the dim stairway. The kitchen knife shaking. Sakura's grip tightening. Charging forward, screeching shrilly, the old man's jaws are snapping and he is growling and where are the goddamn fangs?

_Dealing In Thoughts_

Is Shikamaru

Still alive? Are we chasing

Shadows? Wield it now!

_Damages_

Tumble down the stairs.

Old man, her knife was not made

To chop zombies.

_Disturbed Ino_

He is getting up.

To break the head? Break the brain?

Would fight, but her hand…

_Dallying Outdoors_

Fresh air! The man in

The wall. His brains on the floor.

Relief in outdoors.

_Do You Hear, Sakura?_

"Do you hear me?" says

A whisper in the walls. Do

Not scream, lone monsters.

_Damn Happy_

Kakashi! I hug

Him, he surprised. Words are

Exchanged. Advice.

_Deadly_

A plan he conjures

For us. Me. Ino. Guns? What?

Hokage's basement?

_Destinations_

"Flight is imminent."

He vanishes from our sight.

Guns. Our goal: retrieve.

_Dumplings_

"Sasuke's gone!" Hinata cries in the other room. The night before, Choji and Shikamaru had crashed in the recording and broadcasting room-there was no dumplings like they usually had when they were sleeping over at the other's house, though-while Hinata and Sasuke had slept in the lobby unromantically. This is Hinata that Choji is talking about. The fat ninja yawns, and with a stretch, he ventures through the doorway.

The lights, out the previous night, are in their full bloom this morning. Bright and painful without a first few blinks, they illuminate the formerly hidden scene and the absence of Sasuke.

Shikamaru enters the scene, hair pulled back into its usual spiky ponytail, and sleep is still embedded in his features. "Well," Shikamaru says and leans back on his heels. "He didn't even say goodbye."

"He might die out there," Hinata whispers.

"So could we," Shikamaru sighs and paces to the other side of the room. Grabbing a match and a cigarette from his pocket, he lights himself a smoke between cupped palms. Choji admires this courage, the ability to be calm in the face of loss. He wishes he had some dumplings, though. Food cures all ills.

_Dead People Walking_

Neji crushes the child's head into the pavement, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his forehead. He will not let it sink in, the horror. This young girl-she couldn't have been more than ten years old. Her skin isn't even gray yet, like some of the others shambling around town, saving their energy for the chase. The word for such a creature escapes Neji's mind, but he will learn it later. What matters is here and now. The imminent threats. They are sticking to the back alleys, avoiding the crowds of once humans that patrol the main streets. The trio has no plan to put in motion for the moment, but Neji knows that if push comes to shove, he'll think of something.

He promises.

_Dishwashing_

"Nobody's going to do the dishes anymore," Tenten comments absentmindedly as they wander through the back alleys. They have no destination, though increasingly Tenten has gotten a feeling that they are doing more than meandering, that rather they are _hunting_ for some poor, angry soul unlucky enough to cross their paths.

"That is a shame," Lee sighs, his eyes darting to Neji once again and than back to Tenten. "One of the greater problems when the dead doing things that they should not be doing."

_Deemed Irresponsible_

Shikamaru stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. Hinata's lip is bleeding, a product of her constant nibbling, no doubt. Choji gnaws on a bag of chips. A knocking at the door.

"Ino!" Shikamaru leaps up with a grin. Choji joins him after a moment's hesitation. The sickly pale girl on the floor does not leave her position. The door has to be answered, though, and so the two boys embark on their journey.

Walking towards the door, Shikamaru comments, "Did you lock the door?"

"No?"

"Goddamn it," Shikamaru sighs, and reaches out his hand for the knob, twists it, and pulling open the door, he is-

"Shikamaru!" Choji shouts, irresponsibly. Hinata screams. Fucking hell.

The Shikamaru holds the undead woman over him, writhing under her weight, avoiding its gnashing teeth. Thin, oily hair brushes against his cheek, leaving a greasy residue. _We have to get her out and close the goddamn door_! Choji finally delivers a kick to its ribs and smirks as they crack. The zombie is thrown to the floor, announcing its defeat with an inhuman cry. Shikamaru rolls to his feet as Hinata seems to be coming to her senses, snatching a framed painting from the wall and bashing it over the zombie's head. "Nice!" Choji says with a brief smile as he stabs a piece of the shattered glass into the back of the woman's skull.

Shikamaru is panting. He grabs the woman's ankles and drags her outside and onto the grass. Blood smears on the doormat. What a shame. This is too much trouble for such a lazy guy to go through. He was the one that should have locked the door, but this does not matter now as he releases the woman's ankles and retreats speedily back into the radio station. His chest is heaving, and he locks the door behind him this time. The cello case resting under the couch glares at him, a reminder of better decisions. He could've smashed its skull in with this _easy_.

Why is he the leader? He collapses onto the red sofa. He's not careful enough. He's not good enough at fighting to do this. These zombies suck the strategy right out of him. There is no planning with a woman on top of you and her jaws hell-bent on eating as much of your flesh as she can. What are his chances?

_Dancing Through Empty_

Empty-this space

Clinging like static

Devoid, for now, of the markers.

The terrible stench.

Screams still echoing.

People still dying.

They're still coming back.

I am Naruto Uzumaki! The Kyuubi resides in the heart of me

Though not even the fox can help me find

The salvation, my friends.

And so aimlessly I wander in this mid-afternoon, this daylight.

No visible signs by this third stanza

No patterns

No silhouettes against the windows

I am lucky.

Not undead yet.

_Digits _

Killed her dead

Fresh out of bed

Bashed in her head

All he saw was red

What a rush of blood!

Gushing out in such a flood!

Bled right out into the mud.

Saw her get nipped in the bud.

The image is trapped inside his mind.

That girl-had she been one of his kind?

At some point, maybe, though now behind.

Lee knows that her memories-no one will never find.

Grainy motion sensory vision

Destroyed that head with frightening precision

Not the hardest decision

For Neji, not Lee and his position.

Fear

And a beer

And he only has the first, no cheer.

What does Neji see in the mirror?

_Ding! A Broadcast_

Dark outside and fearfully so. Hinata's knees are drawn to her chest as she turns the knobs. Instructions are spelled out in the manual on the desk in front of her. Shikamaru and Choji are keeping watch, thankfully, though Hinata is positive that she shall get no sleep tonight. What would be the point with so many zombies afoot?

Ino will not show, the dark haired girl thinks, but perhaps someone else will. Putting her scabbed lips close to the microphone, she starts with a whisper.

"Testing, testing."

The sound seems sufficient enough. One more time, though, and with feeling! "Testing, one, two, three!"

Better. Much better than the heads, smashing on the floor and the sidewalk, the brains mashing into a pulp as if they were being whirled in a blender as feet were heaved down upon them-quit it! This is not the time. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, the broadcast begins.

_Dark In The Grocery – The Scent Of Farfetched_

His stomach rumbling along with Akamaru's, Kiba's spine straightens as he sits up. Blinking sleepily, time has been a slow moving river this entire day. His nose aches, and so removing the plug, he dares to take a sniff. Death yes, but something else. Something so tempting that he very nearly throws the door out of the way and tears open the first bag of beef jerky he can get his hands on. With a grimace, he stands shakily. A hand barely on the knob, though, and the static is broken.

Kiba stiffens. His ears are perked to the sound system, and his black eyes widen. "Kiba!"

His name? From where? Akamaru barks and whines, running circles around Kiba's rather large feet. Chuckling to himself with the absurdity of disbelief, he pats his dog's head. The radio, of course! The radio is talking to him! Who else could at this hour, in this dark and empty grocery store?

"Kiba! Kiba! Kiba!"

The back of his neck is so chilly. Why had he cut his hair short again? The voice is becoming more and more familiar with each repetition of his name. Is it…?

"Do you hear me? This is Hinata, and please don't be…one of them. We're n-not very safe here, really, b-b-but is anywhere? Kiba, come to the radio station. P-please. I'm so scared, Kiba, so scared, and it's so dark…"

There is a click. Static returns. Vanquished, her voice, but the plea lives strong.

Kiba opens the bathroom door.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **This is truly the last chapter before I go on my fantastical trip to the fairytale land of New York City. As always, a healthy dose of concrit would be greatly appreciated. I haven't heard from the beta that I messaged yet, but would any of my readers be willing to help me out? I would be so grateful. Oh! I have also decided to post a song that reminds me most of the mood of the chapter and post it at the end of my usual little messages. Anyway, thank you so much for reading! (:

"Shankill Butchers" by The Decemberists (.com/watch?v=cLY0HNds_tE)

Lovely song with a creepy air. It gives kind of a creepy, hopeless sense to the events of this chapter.


	5. Act One: Down

**Act 1-4**

**Down**

_Pudding_

All that Choji wants is a bowl of butterscotch pudding. He'll drown himself in it. He is big boned. His skeleton would drag him down to the bottom of the bowl, and he'd curl up on the porcelain with a blissful half smile. He will not be the first to go. Sasuke will be, that snake, sneaking out into the night without so much as a wave goodbye. His rescuers are noble people. At least, Shikamaru and Choji are. Choji is positive of this small comfort. Sasuke may be an ass, but Choji will rest assured that he is a good man. A man incapable of abandoning his friends, a true hero of the tenth degree. That is all he wants to be.

_Please, Neji, Will You Just Let Me Have This Spot Of Happiness? _

On the street

There is a heart's beat

Lee leans forward in his seat

He is on his feet!

Down on the deserted road

Sneaking past-who cares how it will bode?

That face carrying the load

Lee is not slow.

Naruto! Hold back

The release. No attack

From Neji, no smack

Stop hiding in this shack

"The right idea!" Lee cries.

Neji says, "Money on he dies."

"He's alive!" Tenten sighs.

With relief, he will rise.

_Please, Lee, Will You Just Shut Up Before I Shove Your Face In?_

Neji rolls his eyes. They are safe for now. In hiding, true, but at the moment, bravery is second to security. That boy on the street? A friend then, but this is _now_. Neji has already cut his ties to all but the two shinobi on the floor beside him. They are his charges. He is the top of the heap. Most talented, most distant. Most burdened.

"Where are all of them?" Tenten mutters.

"All of whom?" Lee asks with eyes rooted to the street. Naruto continues towards the corner.

"Don't be stupid," Neji says. "They're where all of the people are."

"There are still people left?" The blonde is peeking inside hopefully empty buildings.

"They couldn't wipe out an entire city in three days," scoffs Neji. "And besides, the government will stop them. Konoha's a city of ninjas, remember?"

"But we _are _the ninjas," Tenten says, voice hollow, eyes wide. Her voice shakes.

The protectors. The defenders of the innocent, the helpless, and the ridiculously under trained. Their role, assigned by the elders and upheld by the law. Ninjas are noble people, right? They should be saving civilian lives right now, but what about their own?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Tenten sputters. "We should be out there! There are hundreds of people getting _slaughtered_ out there, and we could be stopping it! We're supposed to help them, not watch them die! What the fuck are we doing, Neji? Lee? Tell me! What's going to happen to them if we only think about ourselves?"

"They will die." Lee shudders, but his voice is surprisingly stable. "But Sensei. Sensei will live. He is too strong to be taken down by the dead."

"But our job is to keep them alive! And yeah, Sensei will live, but what about the rest? They're not going to make it! And how will we feel if they all die?"

A silence. No one dares to breathe.

Minutes are passing slowly, as if the world is spinning on a dream. Naruto is tearing open a package of dry ramen and shoveling it into his throat.

Neji is the first to break the hush. "We won't feel anything."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"You are insane."

The honest answer. The true outcome of a wasted Konoha.

"We'll be dead."

_Pink_

That is the color

Of my hair, not my hands, red.

Shards of glass so stuck.

_Plummeting Hope_

Shattering empty

Pane. My fault. I am sorry,

Tsunade. Too much.

_Prostate Cancer_

My mom always said

My dad died from cancer. He

Did. Not. Walk. Away.

_Pig_

I used to call

Her Ino-pig. Now she leads

Me through shrieking halls.

_Pale Blonde_

Hair disappearing

Around the corner. Follow

Her down, despite cries.

_Pick It Out_

Silver and shiny

Gleaming devices. Footsteps near

The door. I slam shut.

_Petunias and Pansies_

The flowers in the florist's are wilting. Kiba's stomach still churns at the smell, though. Even as a young child, he had avoided this shop as if it were a minefield, rigged to explode. His mother, hopefully a member of the living, had quickly learned to drag Kiba's older sister with her on her escapades to the city rather than her youngest son. He'd only had to puke a few times to get out of it. The guard had smirked as Kiba's mom had carried him from the city.

Will he ever see him again?

Or any of them?

A rustling in the leaves. Kiba's head is reeling.

A moment passes. And another. And another. Akamaru's back remains arched. His growl is low.

Quiet, again. Kiba shuffles forward. He really has no clue why flowers make him so sick. It must be something about how sickeningly sweet they smell, or maybe it's just a symptom of being a man. Boy. Teenager? What is he? Well, he likes dogs, has a temper, and likes girls? No identity can be weaned from just three traits, but this should be possible, shouldn't it?

Yelping, wailing, desperate, unhinged. Feet are strapped to the sidewalk. Black eyes wide. Blood on Kiba's bare legs. Imaginary. Surreal. Not happening. Untrue. Reality setting in with the thing's teeth. Akamaru's mouth, wide. The nails, unkept, dirty, digging in the dirtied fur.

A feral snarl. Kiba's too late, always too late. His blood is boiling and his teeth are grinding together and his dog is _dying _fucking _dying_ as the creature is shoveling his best friend's flesh into its mouth. Foot lifting up, detached from his own body, but one with the animal heaving its last breaths on the ground. Shrieks a few streets over. More? Fuck them all. Kill them all. With his bare hands-that's how he'll do it. Kill each and every one until the blood has soaked through his skin and their corpses are an impenetrable fortress three stories high, surrounding him from all directions. Dead, truly dead. He slams his foot down on the thing's head. The jaw cracks, and the skull crumbles. Not even a final moan escapes its foul mouth. Again and again, Kiba brings it down. He has never felt so alone, but never has the thrill of the fight felt so rewarding.

Barreling around the street corner, the once people move in a chaotic mass. Their arms stretched forward, their eyes milky, and the stench is overwhelming; it's so fucking everywhere. Dried blood, decomposition, shit and puke. Kiba shudders, plants his feet. They fly towards him, wailing and shrieking. They're hungry, Kiba knows now. He can't smell the flowers anymore, and for the second time in his life, he is crying.

He can make out the individual faces. The woman at the ramen shop. A student at the Academy. Konohamaru. His sister. Their jaws hang open and their tongues loll and Kiba is sprinting away, shamefully, instinctually. His mind has taken leave.

_Put First_

Is Sasuke here? Is Sasuke there? Is Sasuke holed up anywhere?

I bend over, peek inside the windows.

Two days. Still some electricity.

The lights never go out.

A tap on my shoulder

I spin around, spin out

The edge of my kunai against his throat

I falter. Light in his eyes.

"It is I," he says, caterpillar eyebrows raised.

"So it is," I chuckle.

Nervously.

There's a hint of embarrassment

I'm ashamed to say.

Pale familiar faces peer from a second floor window.

I wave; do my best to smile.

This is earth shattering.

There's a faint clattering.

Careful, them. Anxious, me.

Brunette Tenten is the first to creep outdoors.

Neji follows.

Their forms are rigid. Hands balled into fists.

Pale, milky eyes scan me over. Carefully

Diligently they search for indications

That I am inhuman, incapable

Of morals. Capable of only gorging

Myself on the flesh of living.

This is not me, I know, and they know, too.

Speak with ease.

_Peddling Offers_

"Do you want to come with us?" Lee offers to Naruto, hand extended.

"Are you looking for Sasuke?" Naruto's voice is too quiet, his voice too haunted. Tenten shivers.

"We're looking for a way out," Neji answers.

_Ping_

The sun is setting on the first day. Alone and not quite yet traumatized, Sasuke's mental resources dwindle. There are still screams, plenty of them, mostly carrying over from the south side. Sasuke won't join them yet, though. He can't leave without saying his goodbyes.

Miraculously, there is still running water. Sasuke washes his hands with painstaking care, scrubbing the blood from under his fingernails and the grime from his palms. He wishes he could know whose apartment he is hiding in for the night. They're a lifesaver, a real fucking lifesaver. They deserve at least a handshake.

Sasuke's bones weigh him down as he steps into the bedroom, each piece of his skeleton like an anchor dragging him down closer and closer to the floor. He is unsteady on his feet, unsteady in his mind. Have the dead crawled from their graves, or is this a sick attempt at a virus, rapidly contagious, remarkably outrageous? Either way, it's fucking ridiculous. Laughable, even. He is sinking into the mattress at an alarming rate, and he truly is going to join them at any moment, if not in body than at least in everything else until the morning strikes.

The morning always fucking strikes.

_Pump_

These hours of waiting are endless. They lag like the voices behind the images on the movie theater screens. Time passes with minuscule, life-saving moments, each one more surreal than the next. This newest revelation lays heavy on Ino's chest. What all has Tsunade been hiding from them? Where did these guns come from? What lies beyond the ninja villages?

"The pellets are deadly," had been the last thing Sakura had said before being consumed. Ino fiddles with the trigger, the barrel purposefully aimed at the door. No one-no one living-will be harmed at her hand.

"We can kill with these," Sakura says softly.

"We can kill _zombies _with these," Ino says quickly.

"What did Kakashi-sensei call them?"

"Guns, I think," Ino replies.

"And we pull the trigger to kill the zombies?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think we should leave? Go to the station?"

"Do you have the bullets?"

"Yes," Sakura huffs with a narrowing of her eyes. "I did _everything _he said, I swear."

Words are twisting through Ino's mind, bending, grinning, beckoning. None her own. "Let's go, then."

_Pick The Battle_

The scratching at the door is persistent and aching with starvation. Shikamaru's hand isn't shaking this time as he grips the kunai; he is steadier than he thinks he should be. Is this reason for worry? Is he really, _really _fucked up in the head after just one day? "Are you going to give it the Shikamaru special?" Choji grins.

Shikamaru chuckles. "Definitely."

"Uppercut with a knife to the gut, like my dad always says," Choji's says, voice cracking, eyes darting away.

Shikamaru's smile flickers.

"Let it in," Hinata says; the sudden arrival of her voice is a cold shower. Briefly frozen, the two boys stare at her. Her sanity and first words of the day are a relief, to say the least. The worry has seeped away into the fear, however, when her demand is examined more closely.

"Are you sure? I mean, one of us could keep watch instead," Choji says, laughing nervously.

She crosses the room quickly, head down, eyes soft. The protests are stifled. She pushes away the barricade in slow movements, shoving the chairs to the wall first, followed by the piano, and then a couch. Choji and Shikamaru lean against the back wall, watching, worrying. Poised to leap at the most subtle of moans through an open door.

Her small, pale hand clutches the doorknob. There is a moment of hesitancy, and she shakes her head, blinking once, twice, three times.

Ready.

Set.

Turn.

_Pour In_

He tumbles onto her, black eyes empty, a vacancy at his side, blood splattered on his gray jacket. She catches him gently, though not without horrified astonishment. This boy, this widowed survivor lying in her arms. She cannot help the tears slipping down her cheeks. She lays him on the floor and closes the door. Hinata bites her lip, wincing at the blood, choking back a sob.

Is this her fault?

Yes, she must say, it is, and that is the hardest part of all.

* * *

**Author's Notes: I'm so sorry for the long wait for the update.. I had to sort out a lot of things in my life, and school has been very busy and time consuming as of late. I do hope that this was worth the wait, though. Don't hesitate to tell me what you think. (: **

**"Gold Guns Girls" - Metric**

**http:/ www. youtube . com/watch?v=pYLjHhSOE7s  
**


End file.
